Three Minus One
by J0j2
Summary: When a trio becomes two, One isn't a small number anymore. A three chapter story after the wrath of khan. Jim and Bones have to deal with the loss of Spock, NO SLASH, friendship. K plus for minor language.
1. Recollections And Thought

Recollections and Thought

If only I could go back to that day…how long ago was it? 72 hours? Oh dammit…it feels like it was years…no, not years...minutes….seconds. That's how long ago it feels.

It's all still so clear. He walks up to me, I tell him off. He disobeys me and puts me under. And then…

That was the moment when I knew he wasn't coming back. I couldn't see. I couldn't hear. Damn I couldn't use any one of my senses. But I thought. I could still think so clearly. There he was. Spock was standing in the distance, blue uniform, like the ones we would used to wear. I could feel the silk of my medical tunic on my chest and I saw him.

His face was solemn, sad. He approached me quickly and I just stared at him. He looked the same as he is in his older age. Same ol' uniform from the good ol' enterprise. But expressions of pain danced and waltzed across his face. In just a moment he was directly in front of me.

"Don't go…my god Spock, it's not worth it, don't!" I yelled. My voice felt so distant though. It rang out of the corners of the room, dampened.

He stared me squarely in the eye. For a moment, staring in to those dark, chocolate eyes I saw experiences. I saw emotion. I saw friendship. "Doctor-"

"If you're going to go Spock-" It started off hard, like I was going to yell at him. Like I was angry. No, this wasn't what I wanted. I didn't want to yell at him. God, no I didn't want to yell at him. I softened my voice. "Leonard." I said. Almost whispering. I grabbed his hands and held them tightly between mine. "Please Spock, Leonard." Begging, I tightened my grip.

Spock's eyes flooded with so much passion at that moment. "Leonard." It was as if he was tasting my name for the first time. I had never heard it escape his lips except in formal introductions.

In times of doubt, he would be there for the captain. Jim would always have him. Jim would always have me. But I was second. A trio that seemed to never really have room for a third. The third that was me. Spock would console him. He would tell him, just simply say his first name, and that would seem to cure all his troubles. Like, that was the magic word and everything would be okay. But he wouldn't do that for me. So many things would never be okay.

That was the way it had been. The Captain, The Officer and The Doctor. One of these things is not like the other. I would cure them physically, and sometimes, even mentally if it came to worse, but that worse was only if the other wasn't there. If Kirk was ill and Spock needed help, he would turn to me. If Spock was sick and Jim needed help, he would come to, guess who, me. But I couldn't come to them.

Normally I would feel a tight connection with Jim. And that was the way it was. Getting drunk together during star fleet, spending hangovers comatose on his futon couch. When it came to him alone, things were easier. But then the three. I feel like I know Spock so well, and I do. Not the way Jim does, though.

I feel like…like an alien sometimes. If I needed a shoulder, they were my very best friends. But their bond was stronger than mine. It was so obvious. And when I needed everything to be okay, Spock wouldn't say my name. Jim wouldn't use that soft, easy tone he would. I would complain about my troubles, but I didn't get the same kindness. Just that hardy laugh, maybe a slap on the back. But god knows that wasn't what I wanted.

But even if I couldn't turn to them sometimes, they could always turn to me. Anytime. But now at this instance in time, I needed someone. I needed Spock so badly to be my friend the way he was with Jim. "Leonard." And this was what I got. It was exactly what I had wished for, after passing millions of shooting stars.

"Spock…" I let my voice trail. "Don't go into the radiation chamber. Don't go. I don't want you to die…" with that my hands crumbled from his to my sides. I stared into his eyes.

"Leonard," he said, a familiar sureness in his voice. "I have been, and always will be your friend." Spock paused for a moment. "In order to save you, the captain, and the rest of this ship I must go."

"No!" I responded, distressed. Then I instantly regretted it. My cold heartedness had broken it. Spock had finally admitted that I was part of them. The trio. And I had destroyed it. But he didn't seem angry. He understood.

Actually, he understood me so well. He knew I had said this to save him. I had said this because I cared so deeply, deeper than I had ever thought.

"I must. My duty lies here." He put his hand on my shoulder and held up his right hand in the Vulcan insignia. "Live long and Prosper, Leonard McCoy. My fellow officer," he half smiled, if that was what you could call it, "and friend."

Friend, he said. Friend. That was the last word I heard from him. And ever would.

I thought about all the times when my life had been in danger. When his life had too. And especially when Jim's was on the line. All that time bickering and arguing, wasted time.

I always had to nit pick at every goddamn thing he did. I'd scream at him, and he'd just calmly retort…which lead to more screaming. My stupid human passion got in the way of our relationship. I guess it was also his fault, but I feel so guilty blaming him. His smartass Vulcan logic…

Well, maybe it wasn't completely wasted.

It was really just our way of stating our friendship. Underneath that was showing that we did in fact care about each other, even if it looked like a snake and a mongoose.

But I can recall all those times when we worked together, and actually, we were a pretty damn good team. Of course after we got past our differences. I can recall so many times as a doctor when Jim was lying half dead, because he wanted to beam down, not some redshirt who was perfectly fit to do the job out of his own selflessness. We needed eachother at those times, Spock and I.

And we did have each other at those times.

He was always so stubborn. And so willing to give away his life for ours. Where we met an empath named Gem, he was going to sacrifice becoming terminally insane so that the captain and I could live. God knows I wouldn't let him, so I had to knock him out with a hypo. But that was just one of the many times he sacrificed himself. When those creepy space amoebas invaded, he volunteered to go possibly blind. I can't even think of all the times like this.

And really, after all the immovable logic, he was so human. Spock understood both me and Jim better than practically anyone else in the galaxy. He may be a Vulcan and not show emotion, but he can sure read it. He would know when one of us was hiding something or felt down. It was actually rather touching when he just made the effort to help. If you knew Spock, you'd know he doesn't choose his friends pell mell. He's always very careful about who he becomes acquaintance with.

He was gone.

For the life of me I couldn't believe he was gone. It was always us three, going around to landing parties or just being together on the enterprise for those five years. Even when Jim accepted that promotion and Spock became a captain, it felt empty, but not that bottomless pit of agony that I now feel.

God, he was gone. Not coming back to dock the enterprise for an inspection. Not going to argue about something involving emotions. Not coming back to tell about voyages and encounters. Not even coming back to say happy (illogical, he would say) birthday to Jim or I ever again. And the weight of his absence was like the universe on my shoulders.

But I just don't know how it's effecting Jim. I haven't talked to him except for a few words at the funeral service. Why haven't I said anything? I'm such an idiot. If anything we could share this experience. But he and I, we've just sat in our quarters, barely eating.

I guess the reason why I don't visit him is because I'm afraid…for so many reasons. Afraid I can't be the person he wants me to be. Afraid I can't console him. Afraid I can't empathize with him because his friendship with Spock seemed so much more than mine. I'm afraid of everything. Afraid of Spock not being there. One of us who was always calm no matter what. Always could stabilize me. Show me reason. And now I felt like I was just falling and didn't have anything to hold on to, me alone in my quarters. That was why I needed to see Jim so badly.

The funeral…what happened was mostly a blur. I remember Jim started crying. I had never seen him cry. For once, the one thing he valued most in his self was gone. His complete control. So very, very lost. Like Spock. Just…gone.

I zoned out during the funeral. It was like…I didn't care that much. And as soon as the service was over, the full force of the event hit me like a train. I went into my quarters then, and moaned enough to wake God and Jesus and all the dead. But not enough to wake Spock. I hadn't remembered sobbing so much. An insipid amount…my face so stained. I locked the door and wouldn't let anyone come in for a day. I barely remember anything after that because I guess I was drunk and had slept for another day after.

I sat solemnly, staring up into space for the rest of that time, occasionally letting someone bring in food for me but scarcely eating it. I felt bags under my eyes, a sticky alcohol on my face and some in my hair. I must've looked like a mess. And I was.

But I knew I craved companionship right now more than ever. I needed to go talk to Jim and put my fears aside. And stop drinking. It was high time I faced my fears instead of burying them in liquor. That was what I did after every time I couldn't save someone on the enterprise. Have a drink. Death rasped on sickbay's door so much it gave me a headache. Those headaches turned into hangovers. And Jim would be by my side, and so would Spock. But the third musketeer wasn't here anymore, and now it would have to be two.

But in order to become two, not three, you have to understand the math.

I'm going to go see Jim.


	2. Condolences and Guilt

Condolences and Guilt

All this time. Three days? Four? I can't even count. It's all dark outside in space and I can barely move my head to see the clock without feeling a little dizzy.

Those few minutes just play over and over again in my head, like one of those old, antique records that just can't stop spinning. Speaking of records, I used one of them on that old record player from three hundred years ago. Playing from an old band called the Beatles. I can't stand so much silence. It's just not natural. I keep expecting someone to walk in. I keep expecting Spock to walk in. But he never does. He won't ever anymore.

That time that felt like a day. Suddenly we have full power and the enterprise is out of the range of the explosion of the Genesis. Khan is finally dead…that son of a bitch killer is finally dead. But what does that make me? Rejoicing in someone's death? I'm so disgusted by myself…then a few seconds after, I hear Bones's voice. He doesn't sound happy. He sounds dazed, scared and pressing. I desperately make my way down to the engine room…

Right now I think I'm going to throw up, but the images keep coming. I see the radiation chamber…and in it, Spock. He's walking around with a limp and I'm screaming his name and I'm about to go in when McCoy throws a hand on my shoulder and tells me it's too late. If I go in I'll die too. I almost don't care…if I could just go back in there and help him…

Try to imagine right now, you closest friend is dying. He's going to be dead. And your best friend is trapped in a glass box and you can't go in there. All you can do is lean against the barrier and pointlessly try to get to him. Your best friend is about to be dead and you can't do anything.

At that moment it was as if nothing else mattered. I was alone with Spock, leaned up, curled against the glass cage and I bent down as he talked to me. I hung on every word of it, tasting it, holding it…

His face looks like it's melted. A sickening mixture of green goo and flesh…he's speaking to me and I barely say anything to him. I don't tell him he was the closest friend I have ever had…I don't tell him I'll never forget him…I don't say anything. It eats away at me…

Then the moment stops in my mind, I'm frozen with my best friend, a minute before death steals him away from me.

Sleeping is something that doesn't come easily. Well, actually, I don't even have to try. It comes to my eyes as easily as breathing, but I don't want to sleep. I'm so scared of the dreams I'll have. That first night was unbearable. I couldn't tell what was real of not, but I kept seeing Spock in these horrific visions. All the different ways he could have died, all the different versions of suffering and so many terrible things…and I sat behind a glass wall, something around my neck, not able to do anything.

The thing around my neck at first was a chain. Then was that collar from the triskelions…then it was a leash. I leash the strangled me, but gave me just enough room so I could keep breathing and watch Spock consistently be tortured. Sometimes he was laughing. Hysterically. I would scrape and pound on the glass but then I couldn't breath and I heard a laugh…

It was Khan's laugh. Each time I would hear Spock's yells of pain or watch his face contort into what could only be called an unnatural position for a Vulcan, I would hear his cackling. And I was helpless.

At first I just drank a lot of coffee, trying to stay awake. It worked really well until I crashed. I fought so hard to stay awake…but I kept drifting into these visions. I woke up once after trying to open my eyes, and found that I had thrown up half on me and half on the bed. I would normally have someone come in to clean it, but I was just too tired.

Then I tried drugs a little later. I had called someone to clean up the vomit, and soon after made a call to sickbay. No, it wasn't called sickbay. I should have remembered that I wasn't on the enterprise but I kept drifting in and out of these hallucinations and it was so confusing…

I had requested Bones to come in here, to give me an adrenaline hypo. And to talk. I needed to talk to him so badly…but the request was denied because he was 'not to be disturbed' and too drunk. They sent someone else to drug me instead. But this was how McCoy always dealt with his problems, but I sometimes accompanied him, so even when he was in a world of self loathing, he would know there was a person who didn't hate him.

But now I was alone. Being the captain of a starship, I was never alone. People would surround me. I even had visitors and I visited places as an admiral. But I had never felt this isolated. Never have I been alone, truly alone. Both Spock and Bones are gone. McCoy will come around sometime, but not now. He's just so drunk, it'll take him a week, probably longer to come around because he'll just drink more.

But Spock was gone. His firm grasp on life that balanced me had let go. I'm falling and weighed down because he's not on the other side of the scale. He can't pull me out my own emotion now. I'm going to drown like a kid who doesn't know how to swim.

They are – were my team. McCoy would help me when I needed someone to cheer me up, talk to, complain to, understand me emotionally. Spock would always show me the path on what I should do, when I needed motivation, ideas, stability. And both of them together…they made me who I am. But now who am I?

I'm just so lonely and so tired…I want to walk to McCoy's room. I want to talk to him. I want to know how he feels about this. I need someone…

I try to get up from my bed, but I get a rush from the lack of sleep and need to go back down. To occupy my mind, I try to think about what Bones is doing. Maybe he's sober now. How long has it been since I requested the shot? Minutes? Hours? Days? I can't know.

His room pops up in my head and I envision a room so sad looking, his sheets probably scattered on the floor. I see his desk that has glasses of ale and liquor, all empty. Empty like me. Empty like my heart…I've never lost anything like this. I feel horrible to say that Sam wasn't like this. When my brother Sam died that was like nothing I'd ever experienced…but this was worse. For some reason I couldn't know, this was so much worse.

Spock was like a brother. Like an older brother. No one knew me better, could understand me better than him. Except for Bones. He was the only exception. For Spock and I, Bones was like a younger brother. Always in landing parties when we'd beam down if we were in a straight line, I would be in front. Spock would be in back. And Bones would be in the middle. Both of use knew that we would sacrifice our lives for his in the blink of an eye.

Not to say that we looked down on Bones. We did exactly the opposite. While in terms of survival he was the youngest, in real life, he was the oldest. Well Spock was actually oldest, but Vulcans are different…McCoy has his own ways of cheering us up. Even when he jeered at Spock, it was how he told Spock that he was right there behind him. Me and Spock know – I mean knew…that…he would always be there for us. We looked up to him because Bones would always teach us lessons and hold us upright and wouldn't let us fall.

But now I can't tell if he's older or younger than me. Spock's gone and I can't decide…I need to defend him with my life…if I lost another friend, my god if I lost him…but I need him to give me something to lean on…I need him now.

Need. Need. I hear this word echoing in my head and now I'm asleep. More visions that I can't wake from. This time it's Bones in the landscape in front of me. Both he and Spock look like they did when we were on the enterprise.

But now, slowly, Spock and Bones were coming towards the glass. Running, desperately. The faster they ran though, the farther away they'd get. Suddenly they stopped and were pulled closer to me. I reached out a hand, only to be strangled by my captor, Khan. Then all hell broke loose.

All of the sudden, Khan was in front of me and I was free. But now, it was Spock and McCoy who wore the collars, in separate cages. Empty alcohol glasses lay on Bones's floor and I saw him crying in the corner. How did my mind create such a thing?

What's worse, Spock was at the other corner opposite to McCoy is his own cage, laughing. I started screaming. Maniacally. "Khan! You dirty son of a bitch, give me back my friends! Give me back my friends!" I shriek.

He laughs and tugs at their necks. All of a sudden it was now Bones that was laughing and Spock that was crying. I walked around their cages, not sure who to console, who to talk to, who to say to…and then Spock was gone. Just like that. I screamed his name so loud…I hear Khan laugh more, and it's too much. I pass out and find myself, awake (I think) on the floor, my face stained by hot tears.

And I whimper Spock's name again and again. For what seems like a century I feel so bad I didn't say anything before he died. I didn't tell him not to go in the radiation chamber, I don't even care that I wasn't there, I could have prevented it because I didn't murder khan and this wouldn't have happened. So much I didn't do.

What could I do?

What could I do?

I could talk to Bones. I needed human contact more than anything. Need is a strong word. But need doesn't begin to describe my long for one of my friends. We were three…now we are two…and I need the last one.

I lean, fatigue evident, on the intercom. "Kirk to McCoy," I say softly.

"Jim?" he asks quietly, hope glimmering in his voice. "Please…come to my quarters."

"When?" I can barely make the words. I haven't spoken unless it's to myself.

"200 hours."

"Bones?"

"Yea…."

"Thank you." I press the button to end the communication. Right now I need Spock, but I know I'm not getting him back. So, I must see the other that needs him as much as I do.

There are a lot of things McCoy can fix. But I'm not sure a heart is one of them.


	3. One and One

One and One

I think I did a good job of hiding the liquor bottles, except that it still reeked like old gym socks in my quarters. Oh well, I guess Jim can take it. Two hundred hours, it's really early in the morning, and my clock says it's five till. But I'm still afraid. What if I can't be the person Jim needs right now? What if I…start to cry? What then? He can't support me. There's just no way. He might even be mad at me…I didn't know Spock like he did. Would it be insulting if I mourn? I don't know. I just know that I have to be strong for Jim. A captain – an Admiral must have a crew. Even if it's one person. Even if that crew is a doctor. Even if that crew is me.

I'm excited to get out of my room, considering I haven't stared at anything besides that romulan ale (trying to resist drinking it. I won't become a victim to old ways.), the antique Spock gave me and the ceiling…it'll be nice to have new surroundings. But McCoy…how is he feeling about all of this? I know Spock and him have had their differences, but they were so close. I have to be there for Bones. And at the same time, I want him to be there for me. I hope he's sober. I had always been there when he was lost in his own agony and from the alcohol. I have to pull him out. As a token of gratitude for all the things he's fixed. But I'm unsure if a broken heart is one of them.

McCoy sat in his room, in a chair, waiting. The captain wasn't always punctual, but he hoped he would be for this occasion. He had needed to drink something, but there was no way Bones would allow himself any more liquor, so he decided on something he never would have before Spock passed. Tea. It was actually fairly interesting. He had received English breakfast tea from one of the breakfast trays he never bothered to eat. Unlike the alcohol, it was very flat and sweet from the sugar he had put in. But it calmed him. It was as if as he ingested it, it washed away the hot, angry taste of the brandy. He didn't really like it, but he felt like it was the right thing to do.

The hallways were dimly lit, so it was harder for Kirk to navigate to the Doctor's quarters. He felt tired, but at the same time, wide awake. Seeing another human being who he knew so well…it was like a gift. A gift that Bones had given him, inviting him to his quarters. The journey to his room seemed very long…very, very long.

The door squealed open from disuse. McCoy turned around, and instantly his face lit up in a hopeful, happy way. "Jim!" Bones exclaimed quietly, he wasn't sure if talking in a full voice would be the best choice of action.

The Doctor's baby blue eyes weren't just happy. They were grateful. Thankful even to finally see someone. And the Captain's were very similar, if not the same except for a minor difference. They seemed pleading and soft. Appreciative but begging. Helpless, almost and it was as if Jim's usual confident expression had been brutally murdered, ripped from his hands or vanished without a trace. Not even a ghost of his usual self-assured charisma danced on his face. And this was distressing.

McCoy got up from his chair to greet his guest. He wasn't entirely sure what to do, but this seemed right somehow. He stood in front of the captain, holding his structure up, holding his ground, and desperately trying to hold up his friend. He would not allow his sorrow to show if it meant bearing the weight of Jim's own.

He had considered time and time again, turning the idea over and over in his head. It was tempting to allow himself to break down, let his own feelings out. And that thought was so very disgusting. So horribly selfish. He had had five days to cry. To mourn. To be weak. And now he needed to be strong for Jim.

Kirk instinctively moved beside Bones, because buried so deep in the back of his head, and stuck to the bottom of his mind was a knowledge that wouldn't lose it's fix. That he would stand by McCoy and wouldn't let anything happen to him. Losing Spock was enough. Losing Bones too…he didn't even think about that.

The two stepped into the den area of the doctor's quarters where two chairs and a desk were set up. McCoy was half retired now, so the room was more cushy than it had been in previous accommodations, so now instead of the normal, hard plastic chairs, they were soft brown leather chairs. Both of them took one and created a soft, reeling silence.

"What happened…" Jim paused. "That day…" he held a long glance at Bones.

McCoy thought over the words, seeing how they would sound. "Spock sacrificed himself for us." He sighed, mournfully. "Jim…I tried to stop him-" McCoy held himself back from saying more. He wouldn't allow himself to fall victim and give Jim more responsibility then he could carry. He thought he had caught himself.

He thought he had.

But when worse came to worse, back on that five year mission, they all knew each other so well. Their tri, each was an excellent actor, any one of them could easily lead any crewmember into thinking everything was just fine, when to any of the other two in the three it was as obvious as a flashing neon sign in the middle of a dark ally if something was wrong.

That sadness flashed in McCoy's eyes for barely a millisecond and Kirk caught it. Jim would fight and defend until forever for his friend. And right now he needed to be defended. "Bones, it's not your fault…"

It was. God it was his fault. He had been trying not to think about that, but Jim had seen him slip and it came through. His fear and sadness came though. If he had been stronger, he could be who he wanted to be in this time…if he had been stronger they wouldn't be here right now…Spock wouldn't have gone in the radiation chamber…if he had just been stronger!

"Dammit Jim it's all my fault!" he slammed his fist down on the arm of the chair, without the reward of a fulfilling crash when he did so because the material muffled it. He could feel his face heating up in shame, the tips of his ears burning.

Jim leaned forward in his chair and looked on Bones, head in hands, bent over. He took one of the doctor's arms in a gentle, firm grasp.

"It's not your fault." He said like it was the simplest fact. The sky is blue. The grass is green. It wasn't Bones's fault.

"Yes…it…is!" McCoy managed out, fighting back tears with an army. An army that was about to surrender. "Damn it…I was the last person to talk to him! All I said was for him not to do it. I didn't even try to hold him back…" words were becoming lost in a heavy throat, his Georgian accent becoming as thick as molasses.

"Bones." Jim continued to hold his forearm. "Bones, look at me!" he shook his arm, and McCoy looked up in embarrassment and self disgust, his bright blue eyes wet. Kirk continued in a softer tone. "Spock _saved _us. It wouldn't have mattered. We would have all died."

Bones didn't reply.

"He did it to save us. 'The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few or the one.'" They both stared into each other's eyes. "That was what he told me."

"I…I…" McCoy sputtered, trying to think of some way to contradict the sturdy Vulcan logic. "What if I don't want it to?"

A thin silence was drawn into the air. "I didn't want it either."

"But it happened…"

"It's more my fault if anything. I didn't kill khan when I had the chance. If it weren't for him, this wouldn't have happened. And I didn't kill him."

"Shut up." Bones said. He didn't snap the words. No, not in any way. He said it to tell Jim to stop talking, please stop talking. That he was so very wrong. "You had no opportunity to kill that bastard."

"But I-" The admiral released McCoy's arm as he looked down.

"You are wrong, Jim Kirk." Jim put one hand on his forehead. "If it's not my fault, it's certainly not yours."

Bones sighed. There was no point in arguing who caused it, placing blame on themselves. "You know, these things, they just, well, happen."

"You're…you're right, Bones." Jim continued to stare at the coffee table. "but how did you feel about this?" the question caught the doctor totally off guard.

"I feel like I'm lost my second half…" He said after a long pause. "Spock was like my counterpart, but at the same time, my other side. All those times we spent arguing, I feel like I should regret that…but I don't. That's just, the way it is." He realized he wasn't using past tense, but he didn't care and continued without falter. "We always told each other off, bickered about logic and emotion, and almost never agreed on anything – but sometimes when it really came to it, we argued for the same thing all the way. And all those fights, just from hearing his stupid logic," he took a breath. "he was always there."

"But he was _your_ friend Jim…" Bones continued. "I feel so miserable now that he's gone – but I didn't know him the way you did, Jim. You and him were best friends, I have no reason to feel so…so sad about this. Only you do. He was your friend and…" he was trying to explain but words wouldn't come. What was he trying to explain? That he felt guilty for grieving?

"No, that wasn't it Bones!" Jim suddenly bent forward, feeling horrible that this was how his friend felt. "No…you've got it wrong. It was us three…together." Was this how it had come off? That there was no room for a trio?

"I've just…always felt excluded. That you and him would always have each other, but…you never really needed me. I always felt like I was invading and…god Jim…it was always you and him, I didn't fit." Now Bones felt angry and alone. But he didn't want to start a fight here, he really didn't.

Kirk let out an incredulous, sad, you've-got-it-all-wrong-let-me-explain laugh if you could call it that. "Bones, we could never survive without you."

"He didn't survive with me." He spat and turned his head.

"It was always us _three, _Bones."

"But you and Spock were so close. He never called my name, never cared for me like he did for you! You two didn't want me." His rage was beginning to burn, and words turned to weapons. He blinked and felt the wrath of his remark and instantly regretted it, feeling terrible he had just yelled at Jim, the last person who could ever understand him, his closest friend in the world.

"Bones…" Jim sounded so sad, in such utter disbelief and anger at himself. "Spock saved you in that arena on that ancient Rome planet. He saved you so many times…and you saved us. From that crazy illness. From that time I was attacked on our way to babel. From that organism that latched onto Spock's spinal cord. I can't even count." They met eyes.

"And you saved both of us not just physically, but emotionally. You were always there for us, Bones. Always, always, always. You were…the center of our beings. You have to realize we wouldn't have let anything happen to you, it was the least we could do to repay you for all you've done…if something did happen…we could never forgive ourselves. Spock sacrificed his life for me and you. Especially for you. Bones, you are our best friend."

The full force of Jim's words hit him. He wasn't an outsider. He wasn't an inexistent third. There was a trio and he was part of it, and it took Spock's death to finally be grateful for his friends, his world, his life. He now felt so much shame for thinking he was excluded. He was so self-centered…

_But I don't know if I can fend for you myself… _remained unspoken by Jim. "Now…I'm just so scared…" His voice withered and dropped. "…of losing you."

There was a stillness. "I won't leave your side." McCoy assured. Now he needed to be the strong friend.

"The nightmares…in my nightmares," Jim said quietly, staring at his hands clasped together in his lap. "you and Spock are behind glass…and I can't reach you. Spock's laughing or crying in one corner…and you're drunk in the other." His face twisted into an expression that was like what a little kid puckered into before he would cry. "I don't like when you drink, Bones. I just keep worrying that I can't get to you. That one day it will be too much and you'll be gone. It's horrible enough that one of my best friends is gone…please…not you too."

Bones felt worse, the instinct to apologize surfaced. "I-I'm so sorry Jim. I didn't know…"

"Please, Bones, don't leave…" he pleaded. "and now…Spock's gone…" he whispered. As if he had just realized it.

"what…what are we going to do without him?" Bones asked like a scared child.

"I don't know…I just feel…like there's a huge void, so empty. Like space without stars…he's gone…gone." He bowed his head. "Gone, gone, gone." Kirk began to shake, collapsing forward on to the table in front of them. He muttered this word so many times over, shivering.

Bones got up and stood beside him by an arm of the chair and rested a gentle hand on his back, gingerly stroking it as his friend began to whimper quietly.

Human contact. After five days, this is what they both needed. Someone to understand. Someone who knew Bones like the back of his hand. Someone who knew Jim inside and out. Something to feel, something to touch.

"What are we going to do?" Jim said. His eyes were drenched and horrified. He curled over. Bones put a protective hand over his back.

"I don't know…" it was barely intelligible.

"Bones?" Jim asked.

"Yea?"

"Thank you so much…for being here." Jim got up and rested his head on McCoy's shoulder, allowing himself to feel the warm material and heartbeat of his friend. Instinctively, Bones gently draped his arms around Jim's back, giving him something to lean on. He returned the gesture, firmly clutching McCoy, being assured he was there. He was alive. Finally reaching him after countless times of being stuck behind a glass wall. Having someone who shared his sadness, his grief, his fear. Someone who knew Spock. Someone who knew him.

They stood there, in a comforting embrace. Two friends who wanted their third. Two companions that used to be three. Two souls that felt empty. Alone. But not as alone as before. Because they knew they had each other to count on. They could get through this, together.

There wasn't anything to be said, but they both knew what the other was feeling. Feeling like they were missing a piece of their hearts. A quiet moment, a pause in time. It was the two of them when it should have been three, but the space was something they would have to live with now. A space to live in and learn from.

Space. The moon, the stars and the sky. The moon lights up the path for night wanderers, shining brightly, standing for opportunity. The stars aid the moon, glowing as much as they can to assist, showing goals for one to reach for. Space. Somewhere out there, in the final frontier, there is earth. Somewhere out there is Vulcan. But right here, there are two friends and memories, as many as there are stars. And they sit in the middle of the Sky, which holds all of this together, amongst the stars, amongst the moon, amongst the memories. And it the outlook is turning brighter as morning approaches. The future is brighter as long as they choose to embrace it. Brighter. And Fascinating.

Author's Note:

I needed something where they get close. There is absolutely no slash. Just two good friends. I hope you like it, I just feel like McCoy is always left out of these things and I try to use him as much as I can, because he's really my favorite. I was really sad when Spock died and I feel that there needed to be more. Please, R&R. Hope you enjoyed it.


End file.
